A letter to my pre-baby self

So I do realize Chad isn't quite a year old yet, but I've been thinking about writing this post for a while and being just 2 weeks out I think I'm close enough. This last year has been no walk in the park. Being a mom has not been as easy as I thought it would be, but it's been infinitely more wonderful as well. I've had so much love, help, and support from my immediate family, in-laws, extended family, and friends. Having cousins and close friends who gave birth shortly before me has really helped me keep my sanity--when I feel alone and overwhelmed, I can vent to them and they know exactly what I'm going through.

Of course, I couldn't have done any of it without Justin. He's been incredibly kind and patient through this year and the nine months that preceded Chad's birth. It fills me with such faith in the Lord's wisdom--I had no idea when I married Justin just how perfect he would be for me.

The other night I was thinking about how much I have changed from the person I was a year ago. Hindsight is 20/20, of course, and I know now the things I would do differently if I could go back and change them. So I wrote this letter to my pre-baby self (a person who obviously could never have read this, so perhaps it is more for my progeny and anyone else getting ready to have babies). My hand flew so swiftly over the pages of my journal as I wrote it that it almost felt like the words weren't coming from me. The sentences appeared, fully formed almost all on their own. Here is the transcript of that letter:

Dear Katie,

So you think you're ready to be a mother? What do you think motherhood is? Holding cute babies all day? Rocking a quiet child to sleep each night? Pushing a stroller on daily sedate walks through the park? Well you're right--or at least partly. There are elements of all those things in this state of being we call motherhood. But there is also so much more.

Before you get to become a full-fledged mom you must go through a trial by fire. You must almost literally walk through the valley of the shadow of death fearing no evil. Your body will be stretched and molded in ways you can't imagine now, and after the baby is born it will never be the same. You'll have hands and rods and other such instruments shoved in places that should never see the light of day. The very foods you once loved will make you feel nauseous and no matter what Justin says some days it will always be wrong.

You'll go through hell to deliver that child to the earth. (Can you tell I didn't have the best birthing experience?) There's no other way to put it. And yet that first glimpse of your baby's rosy cheeks he got from you and the button nose he got from Justin will be like seeing a sliver of heaven. And you'll realize how powerful you really are. And let me tell you, you'll need that newfound strength for the months that lie ahead.

I can only speak now from the perspective of a single year, but this first year of my son's life has been the hardest year of my entire life. If it weren't for priesthood blessings and faith in the Lord, I don't know how I would have survived it. Motherhood is physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually challenging, calling into question every belief I've ever held. And I thought once I finished my college degree I wouldn't be doing so much learning!

I've learned, in the course of this year, that sleep is a valuable and limited commodity--you can trade it, spend it, save it, or lose it, and you'll never have quite enough of it. I've learned there is no shame in spending days on end in the same pair of flannel pajama bottoms and milk-stained shirt, just as long as you get out of bed to face each new day. I've learned the wisest beings among us may just be our infants: they observe much without speaking, cuddle shamelessly every chance they get, and know how to really enjoy a good meal. I've learned how exciting a single smile, giggle, or lift of the head can be, and I celebrated, photographed, and videoed all I could for posterity.

I've learned you've got to take care of yourself in order to be able to take care of others and there is nothing selfish about getting some alone time once in a while. I know you must also take care of your spouse, because it is he who helps take care of you, and the strength of your marriage is one of the most important things in your child's life. Without it your family would be lost.

And most of all I've learned about the rapidity of time which, like sleep, is a vanishing commodity. Just moments ago a nurse handed me a tiny infant with dark, liquid, soul-searching eyes. He was the most perfect thing I'd ever seen. And now he's nearly a toddler, his first year of life flown swiftly past, leaving me gasping for breath with its speed. Through heartache and hardship I've loved my little man with a fervor I can't explain. And I look forward to the lifetime of lessons I know I'll be learning from him.

Take care of yourself. Enjoy every day as it comes. You're stronger than you think you are.

Love,
Katie

Is it a little cheesy? Maybe so. But it puts into words the dramatic change I've gone through in the past 12 months. A year from now I'll be a different person again, having changed with every new trial and blessing. And though there's been nothing easy about them, I'm thankful for my trials because they've made me the person I am today.